


The Weight of Memory

by singedsun



Category: The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson
Genre: F/F, Missing Scene, reference to blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singedsun/pseuds/singedsun
Summary: I've always liked the idea that the ladies got a little closer in the short time they spend together. If they had just a few more days perhaps between 'oh yes let's pretend we're distant cousins' and 'oh god why house why' they might've had a chance to get down to something a little more lovely and delightful. Hence a moment between the moments, where an afternoon nap could start pleasantly enough and become... well anything. Except this is still after all, Hill House.





	The Weight of Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/gifts).



The shadow of Hill House has a weight to it. And the whole of it is leaning on Nell, dark and heavy.

"Sweetie," Theo says, keeping her voice light and almost song-like for her own benefit as much as Nell's. Getting through to Nell on her bad days was an increasing struggle. One that Theo had started wondering the worth of. She liked Nell well enough, more than that. They'd talked of living together, of letting Nell spread her wings in the wide world. The woman was in obvious need of help, of comfort, of companionship. And Theo… well, she had a talent for wounded creatures. That, and love enough to spread around.

"Darling. Please come lay down. You need rest."

She stretches against the heavy quilt, arms and legs extending out cat-like, craving both sleep and the warmth of another to rest against. Nell, when still and sleeping soundly, was the perfect little spoon. Of the both of them, Nell needed sound sleep most, and was the least interested in getting it.

Theodora had taken to sleeping in Nell's room, the other woman woke at such odd hours and often thrashing or screaming at the walls or her blankets. Nell would calm if Theo stayed close, if she held her and brushed the hair back from her cheeks. So she did. During the day, when the sun was bright, if she could get Nell to nap, then they could both be better rested for their troubled nights.

Nell shakes her head. "No. I don't want to sleep now," she says. She frowns, a look Theo had deemed very unbecoming on her, and crosses her arms. "I want to explore."

Theo stretches again, her back arches before slowly she lifts upright and sits facing the door, and Nell. She crosses her ankles and pulls her knees up, hugging them to her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, Theo looks across the room at Nell, who hovers half out the door to the room.

"Please, Nell. I'm tired and so are you, I know you are." She frowns, knowing her lips turn down in a way that was still inviting, still interesting. She likes to stay interesting, mysterious but friendly. "Come to bed, Nell, darling. I promise we'll explore before dinner. How's that?"

Nell looks uncertain, despite the tone of her interest to explore the house, and she wavers under Theo's heady invitation. Theodora has positioned herself as a kind of sister, a friend, a companion who knows her almost as well as Nell knows herself. Better perhaps, Theo thinks. After all, she’s familiar with a particular kind of woman: one that needs her.

Nell is tired. So very, very tired. So, she considers Theo's invitation.

She considers Theo actually, looking in on her from the doorway. The afternoon light is diffused by the drawn heavy curtains. Little specks of light and dust cascade before her, and as she exhales her breath creates a vortex in the dust… like a tunnel leading her across the room to the bed. And Theo in it.

Theo is wearing a light sweater that hangs loose on her, showing a tanned and bare shoulder as she leans forward. She curls a finger as Nell steps back into the room. It beckons her closer as Nell's vision narrows to just that finger, just that arm, just that bare shoulder.

Her vision twists and something wraps around her, a weight on her arms and a gentle nudge right in the center of her back. She stumbles, hurried by the sensation. Theo moves quickly, legs swinging to the side of the bed as she lunges for Eleanor.

Her head light and dizzy as if it might just lift off her body altogether and rest against the low, dark ceiling, Nell lets herself be led to the bed.

She lets Theo pull her legs up into the bed, under the covers. She sees the dark of Theo's eyes grow, until the deep brown shrinks to an impossibly thin ring around black irises. Nell reaches a hand up to Theo's face, cupping the other woman's cheek. It’s cool under her hand, but Theodora leans into it and smiles down at her. Her chest tingles with that smile and her whole body melts into the bed.

“You’re exhausted, poor thing,” Theo says.

"Will you--" Nell begins, but Theo is already climbing in under the covers next to her.

 _When did we get here?_ Nell wonders.

When had they gotten to this place where the comfort between them has become an anchor, a reminder of themselves in a place that feels so inconsistent.

“Dearest Nell,” Theo whispers against her hair. “Nothing will tear me away.”

Now that she is secure in Theo’s arms, Nell can’t quite remember why she wanted so badly to explore. After all, it is in her dreams the house speaks to her. It calls to her in a way that isn't so frightening, not really. When she’s awake, Theodora does the same. They play off each other, calling to her in their different ways, at different hours. Theo only wants the time that is hers, Nell thinks. She wants these daylight hours the house might’ve stolen.

Theo’s strokes Nell’s shoulder, thumb dancing soft, lazy circles just underneath the hem of the borrowed cotton shirt. Her other hand snakes under the pillow Nell’s head is resting on as she pulls herself closer, wrapping as near to the back of Nell as she can manage without displacing the covers again. It’s close enough for the curve of Nell’s backside to fit just above her thighs.

Nell can almost tell the moment Theo’s mind wanders elsewhere, to different things they could be doing  in a large cozy bed such as this one. Things they’ve already done, or things she’s dreamed... or things she wants to do. Things Theo has whispered-- _is_ whispering, full lips pressed to the shell of Nell’s ear.

Her days and nights blur, memories and dreams may as well all be true when either could be lurking behind shut eyes. It’s not the first time she’s wanted to be touched... for Theodora to touch her. Something more than this gentle hold, the comforting mother hen embrace Theo has her in. Her words say more but Nell can feel the retreat already. She hasn’t acted quickly enough. She’s too tired, the afternoon sun has gone behind clouds and Nell’s eyes close.

“I might.” Her voice is a floating whisper, the tone of a waking dream, or an absent mind.

Behind her, Theo stops moving.

Nell can’t even be certain she’s said anything at all. As Theo stops, so does she. She holds her breath far back in her throat and her vision fades at the edges, growing darker. Her head lifts just enough that her hearing isn’t muffled by the pillow beneath her. The room creaks around them and as certainly as she’s ever known anything, she knows the house has leaned in to watch them. It too has held its breath.

It’s not until she hears a gentle exhale from Theo that Nell lets out her own breath. Something in her eases with the sound, drawing her eyes closed. Her head returns to the pillow.

“I won’t,” Nell says, though it takes some effort. The words are still quiet, but there’s life to them because she’s fought to say them. The words creeped in sometimes, words she didn’t mean or didn’t want or didn’t think. Saying things about Theo was easy, especially bad things-- mean things.

The house doesn’t like Theo, but Nell does.

The house backs away as Nell claims her space in it. She feels her face stretch, smiling with pride, as though she’s made a bargain with time itself. She turns slowly in Theodora’s arms, coming face to face with a beauty, sleeping. Nuzzling closer, she presses a kiss on Theo’s forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips. She’s soft, softer than Nell had known another person could be before she’d met Theo. She smells divine, like tea and chocolate and the electric scent of the sky before a storm.

There’s a moment as she feels Theodora’s breath against her cheek that she wonders if this is what it could be like. To be with someone, to be with Theo, in any place that isn’t this one. Where she can rest and wake at her leisure, where she can kiss someone who smells of a sweet and warm summer day. Eleanor considers waking her, to tell her this. It’s not the first time she’s thought it, about the chance to be home wherever Theodora calls home. She closes her eyes, anxious to hold the moment tight.

For that moment she sees them as it could be. She’ll find her cup of stars. They’ll buy gold-rimmed dishes. They’ll take breakfast on the patio. They’ll go out together to the shops and  eat dinner at small cafes where everyone will smile at her because she’s come with Theodora. And how could they not love her, not there, not ever. Not with Theo at her side. She can almost feel the ceramic of the cup between her palms. Stars light up in the darkness behind her eyes.

Perhaps, Nell thinks, she’ll tell Theodora exactly what she wants.

The vision is an easy one to conjure, and a pleasant one, especially with Theo as she’s just seen her. The halo of afternoon sunlight eases into the long twists of the road away from the house. She’ll take Caroline’s car and follow Theo home to her cozy colorful apartment. She’ll follow the kindness that’s been offered her, the only kindness, to someplace she’s wanted. To someplace warm and bright that smells of fruit and fresh bread.

There will be laughter there, and afternoon picnics not unlike the ones she and Theo have shared here. And music -- oh, she wants so badly to sing loud, silly songs that match their surroundings. Someplace happy and finally someplace her mother--

Eleanor stiffens, eyes popping open to a dark room. Under the covers, Theo has turned her back to her and all that’s visible is the cascade of Theo’s dark hair between them. It’s thick and there’s a shine to it; it waves under the covers like blood sinking slowly into the sheets. The scent isn’t sweet as she remembers, it’s smoky and rotting like dead leaves and wet grass.

Her lip curls and something like disgust lights up her belly with cold fire. When she crawls free of the covers, scuttling her legs out before her, it feels as though her toes might scorch the floor. Her body sinks into place, gently as if it could catch her before she wavers, light-headed. Whether from the sleep or the dream or the anger, she doesn’t think to notice.

In the hall, there’s a light moving away, leaving dancing shadows on the dark carpet. The house is growing, opening, breathing. The walls are watching her, pulling her and she smiles at the invitation.

That, Nell thinks, that’s where she wants to be. That’s where she’s needed. That’s where she’s loved.

_Away._

A bell rings and she answers out of habit.

“I’m coming.”


End file.
